aka T-PaB.

Sick Day

Maybe you woke up on a deliciously cool Saturday morning after a pretty-stressful-but-God-is-good couple of weeks, and maybe you couldn’t swallow and your throat felt like Grim Death. No warning, no symptom build-up. Just blamo. Grim Death.

Not the other kinds of Death. GRIM Death.

The thing is, if you are like me…then maybe you sent your husband off on a day of Bible studies and grocery shopping alone so that you could guzzle apple cider vinegar and lemon honey water and these beauties (which you love so much that they were actually part of your birthday present this year) while browsing Korean television stations (nothing is on).

And maybe you got a little hungry and remembered the rolled oats you just got in your iHerb order. And decided to make some oatmeal.

But let’s say just hypothetically that you had some other things in your postage stamp kitchen: things like half a can of coconut milk, a bag of chia seeds, a giant container of cinnamon, a crustily particulated bag of dark brown sugar. Things like that.

So maybe you whip all these things together. Boiling the oats in half-water-half-coconut milk. Scooping out a heaping tablespoon of chia seeds…and one of brown sugar. Stirring violently. Dusting with cinnamon. Drizzling with the LEAST little bit of honey because it was there, and you can’t leave well enough alone.

But then…this is where you are not like me. Because you beautiful sensible people would have stopped right there, or several steps before. But maybe you didn’t.